and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
It was quiet in Sylva, and the spring sunlight created patterns of dapples across the forest floor. Starsin was busy with Larrikin, who had decided to finally grace everyone with his presence just a few weeks ago. He was perfect, just like Malone and Lilt, with his striking king cheetah markings and his glowing constellations. She cannot help but to feel a little smug that her children with Ophie never looked like the rest of his. They were distinctly theirs.
But Malone’s panicked cry shatters her tranquility, and she can feel her blood turn to ice as Ophanim’s heart feels like it breaks in two inside of her chest. Looking down at her youngest son, she presses her lips sweetly to his forehead, and then requests gently, “You should go find Lilt, okay? She said she was going to that pond over there.” She waits, until he is nearly out of sight, and then she hastily turns to find Malone.
The sight of Ophanim collapsed on the ground brings a flood of memories of the war against Tephra, of him bleeding and dying, and she can feel panic bubbling up in her throat. She places a kiss first to the side of Malone’s face, trying her best to piece together what he had said, along with the torrent of thoughts going through both of their minds. And when she finally does it feels like someone has slammed the air out of her lungs.
Ophanim, now a dull gray and with streaks of black rather than gold, commands her full attention. She lowers her head to his, resting her forehead gently against his as she whispers with an ache in her throat, “I’m sorry, love. I’m so, so sorry.” She cannot relate to his pain, because her own mother meant absolutely nothing to her. But Jenova was not like Starlust, and she can feel the way his heart is broken and bleeding inside of her chest, and even if she cannot relate, she can understand. His pain was her own, and she is sure that even if their hearts were not switched that his pain would still be just as tangible.
But somewhere beneath her anguish and her grief, there is a fury slowly being born. It is merely an ember, for now, but she can feel it spreading through her chest as she kisses her sweet husband’s face and she asks softly, “Do you know who did it?” Because whoever it is, she is already imagining them shattered into a million pieces.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted.
( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
@[Ophanim]
